Down the Rabbit Hole
by Rice Buny
Summary: It was all a bad dream. And yet that doesn't make her feel any better. To think; that everyone moved on without her, while she remained in a coma, living in her dream world where walkers existed and characters were created. Beth had imagined the whole Walking Dead story, within the two years she was in a coma. At least...that's what she thinks. [no ships]. [M just in case]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer; I don't own The Walking Dead

* * *

She automatically panicked when her vision cleared. Screaming, Beth quickly grabbed the nearest object, and slammed it straight into the face of the brunette. Did she fail? Technically, Beth never saw the lady die; the thought continues, _I never saw her die-I never-_ she stops, staring into the stricken face. "Beth?" The same, low-octave pitched voice, is cautious and wavering. The voice ignites a flame of anger inside of Beth, and it quickly engulfs her into a shaking rage. The anger within her from earlier has extinguished, but the embers were still there; any little movement from this lady will be enough to set the said embers on fire once more.

"How are you alive right now-how are you-" Beth hisses, her hackles rising, as she clenches the pillow that she slammed into the lady's face. Instinctively, she buries her chin into the plush object, cuddling her body around it. "Stay back," her cheek seems to wince as the lady raises a hand, and she recoils, jerking her head away harshly. "Did I miss? Is that it?" She questions in a demanding timbre. She thought the scissors would've met their mark. But then, though her vision's somewhat disoriented and bobbing, it's able to focus upon the lady who's holding her hands up as if surrendering. Dawn's attire is nowhere near a police suit, rather, she's in ordinary clothes, clean and fresh. "Dawn?" She whispers, hugging her pillow. Recalling when she punctured Dawn with the scissors, she can assume that the thick, stiff cloth of the police outfit could've lessen the severity of her stabbing Dawn with the scissors; and it's true that though Beth cannot remember correctly, she meant to pierce the throat of Dawn, but she could've missed.

"Beth, you remember me?" Dawn smiles slowly.

"Murderer," Beth snarls, gripping her pillow like a clawed animal. Dawn's smile slowly lowers into a concerned frown. "Tell me what happened to Rick. Daryl? What about Carol?" With each name, the volume of her voice increases, until she finally ends with a shout. "Noah?" Dawn's eyebrows raise. "Did you take him back again?" she shrieks, her breathing becoming labored as it takes an abundant amount of air for her to scream constantly towards the damned lady.

"Beth, look, you're probably confused I-"

"Did you hit me on the head?" Beth questions, her voice returning to its platonic state as she stares levelly into the moonstone eyes of the police officer. She assumes that she blacked out; she doesn't remember why, but she doesn't recall what happened after stabbing Dawn. Where did her previous group go? She doesn't-

Dawn slowly respires a sharp breath of air, which captures Beth's attention once more. "We were so worried; when you got into that car crash and-" Car crash? Beth's now highly confused. Something's definitely off. "It's been almost two years, Beth. You've been in a coma for two years," her voice cracks, and Beth can only stare at her glistening tears as she digests what she said. _You've been in a coma for two years._

"What are you talking about?" Beth begins, her voice trembling more than she would like, as she squeezes the crisp, white pillow, the one thing that she knows is real and what it is at the moment, as she moves backwards. A creak attracts her attention as she shifts, and she begins to notice her surroundings, realizing that she only spent her time observing Dawn. If Daryl was here, he would've scorned her, stating that she must be aware and acute of her surroundings. The room she's in is adorned in soft pastels, but what really pisses her are the machines and instruments sitting in the room. She's in a hospital room, most definitely. And judging by the crinkling sound that emits whenever she moves, she's probably in scrubs. However, she doesn't remove her eyes from Dawn to check. So. Dawn apparently moved her back into a hospital room, thinking she was worth saving. That or maybe the group somehow was able to persuade the officer to save her, which sounds highly unlikely. "We weren't in a car crash I was in the hallway with the scissors and-"

"Look, Beth, the doctor said you might forget some things, but we were driving to your sister Maggie's house, remember? You stayed over the weekend at my house. And we were to drive you home, the farm? And when we were going to your house, suddenly, your boyfriend Zach crashed the car," Dawn explains cheerfully, happiness laced with her words. Why is she happy to see her? Beth cannot comprehend why the officer's attitude is so strange, especially when it comes to her. And Zach? If Beth is able to distinguish her thoughts clearly, she can almost remember Rick mentioning that Zach died; mauled down by walkers in their abandoned RV. Her deceased boyfriend died around a year ago, along with Otis and the rest. "It's been almost two years!" More tears. Beth refuses to cry. Rather, her stomach's cold as though her intestines were frozen and a headache's beginning to form. _What's going on?_ "You were in shotgun so you ended up getting the most of the damage next to Zach. But Zach recovered unlike you," Dawn reaches out towards Beth with a trembling hand, and Beth, recalling the times when Dawn inflicted scars across her pale visage, she leans away, and Dawn's hand retracts. The sad expression nearly causes Beth to feel guilty, but she ignores the lingering feeling.

"Beth, the doctors said that you were awake, so I came by and you said you wanted to see me-" It's true, Beth automatically screamed for Dawn, refusing to allow any of the doctors to touch her. Though her memories are hazy, Beth is able to painfully remember how she woke up, determined to see Dawn. Eventually, she ended up sedated most likely, until she calmed down, and she can assumed that she woke up to see Dawn leaning over her bed. In reality, Beth was demanding to see Dawn to see if she ended up killing her with the pair of medical scissors, but...that's clearly not the case.

"Get out." Beth doesn't want her here. Disregarding Dawn's feelings, she glowers at the lady, who stares at her with a heartbroken expression. And...pity. Beth dislikes that. It's similar to Lori when she was looking at her when she was in a suicidal state. Then, Beth remembers. It came in a flash. A young, blonde girl with round azure eyes, prancing with a lankier, seemingly older brunette, and another girl, stouter but clearly with a better build than the two other girls. Maggie. Herself...and Dawn. Dawn was her cousin. She blinks, staring at the 'cousin', her disdain replaced with shock. How? _But...I didn't remember her as my cousin during the apocalypse..._

She supposes what Dawn said could be true; basically the thing about her in a coma, but if that's the case, she doesn't want Dawn to tell her the news. "I want Maggie." Beth begins. "I'm sorry Dawn. But I want Maggie," she says the words slowly so that they do not waver. Her voice is definitely hoarse and meek from the lack of use, and she hates that. "I want Maggie. I want Daryl. I want Carol." She isn't sure why she invited for Daryl. She never really showed any sort of affection towards the older male, but when they had their small moment...she realized that she rather appreciates his company and the safety she receives whenever she lingers around him. He'd protect her at the moment. He'd surely protect her from Dawn. Then, at the thought, she scolds herself. No, the Dawn in the apocalypse wasn't her. She had good intentions even in the apocalypse; this girl, this girl won't hit her for sure, Beth also hates how she actually did feel a sudden sensation of relief when she figured Daryl would protect her from her own _cousin_. How pathetic and potentially hurtful towards Dawn.

"Who's Daryl?" Beth blinks, and slowly rounds to Dawn. "Carol? What?" Dawn frowns, her eyebrows scrunching downwards together, indicating she's genuinely confused.

"Dawn...do you...know what a walker is?" Beth tests her theory, no longer trying to sound tough; her voice has skipped up multiple octaves higher as she asks the question. She already has a sinking feeling about what the answer could possibly be, and what it most likely is, but she continues to remain hopeful.

"A walker? Honey, what could you possibly mean by that?" Beth can only stare at her.

* * *

"Maggie?" Beth wants to see her so bad. How long has it been? Since she's been in here? Trapped in this little cute, light blue prison? Succumbed to multiple injections and questions of doctors as she remains smelling the sterilized, clean, sheets that's she's forced to sleep in? "Maggie?" The metal bar that snakes around the perimeter of her bed slams into her stomach as she leans over it, hugging the taller female.

"Beth!" The girl sounds so close to crying. "I missed you so much-" Maggie runs her fingers over her face, avoiding the scars [that ironically, seem to be in the same places where she previously received her stitches in her alternate reality, her dream world] a she plants a dry kiss onto her oily hair. Beth would love a shower. "Oh," Beth stares at her sister, her eyes watering, and for once, she doesn't care that tears are sliding down her cheeks as they spill over her water line. The girl she's looking at is no longer a blanched, ashen color, her eyes no longer dead to the world. No, not 'no longer', they never were.

Beth refuses to share the world she lived in in replacement to her real world. She's probably going to be sent a therapist if she tries to explain her post-apocalyptic world to anyone. Beth, she remembers her old memories, such as when they were little and she had pigtails as she played with her 'older cousin' Dawn, but the farther she goes into her memories, the muddier and hazier they become. And if she tries to reach deep into some particular memories, a throbbing sensations pounds against her head from the harsh thinking, that eventually, she backs away from the pain. She cannot recall anything after when she turned fourteen, which according to Dawn, was about two years ago, when she was going to leave to go back home. So that part was true. After that, her brain must've twisted and manipulated those memories until finally she reached to the point where she begin to concoct whole stories, fabricate memories and create her whole other dimension where she lived in a post-apocalyptic world.

She created Daryl in her mind.

She created Carl and Rick.

For a moment, she was afraid that maybe, maybe Maggie was just a fragment of her imagination. But yet, even after two years of living in her imagination where the rancid smell of walker flesh smelled rather real and her mind was apparently troubled enough to imagine her own father dying [her stomach churns at the thought], she can still recognize the scent of her sister. The soft texture of her sister's shirts, and the crisp smell of laundry detergent that varies depending on the brand they bought. Tears soak into the shirt, leaving a wet stain across Maggie's waist as Beth refuses to release her hold on Maggie. "Tell me...is Glenn real?" Maggie whispers, her voice hoarse. "Tell me that Glenn's real," she allows Maggie to step away from her, and she shuffles into a more comfortable position, causing the metal hospital bed to creak underneath her shifting weight. "

Maggie sighs, crouching downwards, to face the younger blonde. "Dawn warned me about this," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "She said that you had hallucinations along with imaginary friends." Beth's heart sinks. Did she really imagine her sister being completely happy, being horribly in love with the kind, shy, stammering man who eventually reveals himself as a trustworthy, brave and somewhat of a pushover of a soul? How was she able to design such an intricate personality? Beth's somewhat marveled and horrified that she's able to create people with conscious thoughts, only to kill them off. Had Shane existed as well? Her heart hesitates on its next beat, and it appears on the heart monitor. Maggie must've noticed, and she slowly digs her slender fingers into Beth's hair, massaging her scalp. "Are you okay?"

"No, I am great." Beth swallows, though it causes her dry throat to hurt and throb. "Can you take me home?" Beth wants nothing more but to go home. She wants to see if her father really is alive. She refuses from contorting her face into a shocked grimace as her brain brings up a visual image of blood gushing out from the horribly large slit across the side of the crook of her father's neck. The crimson liquid splattering across his face and shirts. The ragged screaming from Maggie and herself.

"Beth?"

She snaps her head up, the images quickly stored away as she stared into the face of Maggie. "I just said that the doctor said I can take you home just next week. Of course, we need for you to visit the therapist, apparently, you forgot who Dawn was at the moment-"

"No, I didn't forget who she was. I just...mixed up my memories. I remember who she really is now." Yes. She does remember who Dawn is now. But that doesn't ease her consciousness, or remove the artificially created memories of Dawn's personality. She can easily say that Dawn would inflict harm on her and was very stern and distant with her throughout the majority of her life; but that was just because she was overprotective. Though they were never really close if Beth remembers correctly, they were able to tolerate and somewhat love each other. "I want to go home." Beth says quietly.

"Aw," Maggie ruffles her platinum blonde hair. "Beth," the lanky female says. "Look, I'll get you out of here soon enough." Maggie promises in a solemn tone, her grin adoring her face. "Now, I gotta go. Zach is planning to drop by later." However, her smile instantly vanishes. "Zach. Beth, look, here's the thing. After two years...he moved on." She begins slowly. Beth nods. Somehow, somewhere...she decided to move on too. Maybe her brain was unconsciously telling her this by mentioning how he dies in her alternate reality. And also; while she can recall her past with him, it just seems...so distant. She's no longer part of this world anymore. That leaves her stricken, as Maggie grabs her purse, slinging it over her shoulder as she leaves the room.

Beth stares at her hands, entwining her fingers together unconsciously while doing so. She's no longer part of this world. Everybody has moved on. And even though they didn't mean to do it intentionally; she was left behind. She's two years behind and she cannot catch up on that. At the sickening thought, tears begin to well up, blurring and streaking her vision foggy. She swallows a lump of tears, which leaves a scalding feeling in the back of her throat, as she tries to hold in the concoction of tears and snot. She sniffles, and using her wrists, she tries and wipe away the tears, she was only successfully able to streak them across her cheeks. A sudden thought occurs to her, and she stares at her left wrist. No thin scar. Of course...her depressed state was in a dream. Perhaps she really was somewhat depressed without knowing it; maybe it's because she was in a comatic state for so long, she just wanted to die. However, another problem other than her mother dying appears in front of her. Everybody's continued on without her.

Her boyfriend. Her sister, who Beth knew was different. Everyone. Everybody.

And she was only left in her little wonderland where she fell down the rabbit hole.

A sudden screech that sounds out of place even in the background, distant sounds, causes her to jackknife up, as she quickly turns to the source of the noise. Her heart stops. She stares at the person in the doorway, inhaling slowly, unaware that she's holding in her breath. "Oh, sorry, wrong room," the male mumbles, about to leave. She stares at his attire. How odd. While she can still see him wear that; plan shirt and baggy jeans, she somewhat expected a certain, heavy weapon to be slung across his back.

"Wait," she begins without even comprehending what to say next. The familiar figure stops, clearly also startled at her sudden outburst. "I-I," she doesn't know why, but all of a sudden, tears begin to form, she can tell judging by the sudden heated temperature that seems to focus around her eyes, and the way her vision seems to blur. She mentally scolds herself, clearly disappointed that she's crying. She cannot cry in front of him. "I'm sorry," she suddenly says quietly.

"Uh, yeah," he begins. He even acted like him. Did she really never meet him before in real life? How did her mind create a person so similar to this man.

"Why are you here?" She is aware that he's uncomfortable of her questions, but she just wants him to stay. She's stalling, spouting out personal questions that she shouldn't say. "I-I'm sorry I shouldn't-"

"No," he begins. "No, it's fine. I was just bringing in a neighbor...she faces...family issues. She's in the hospital too, I was coming to visit her, wrong room though," he chuckles at his finished sentence, knocking against the wooden door. She smiles weakly in his direction as well. "She has a husband...but...he's not here now," and for a moment, she recognizes the anger of him. The way that his jaw pops, how his words seem strained, and the way his smile no longer seems friendly but rather plastered on and forced; he's angered by something.

"Oh. Thank you for telling me," she regains her manners, realizing how such a man like him wouldn't like her asking such demanding questions. She feels as though she needs to thank him for even answering.

"Yep," he nods, before leaving, shutting the door rather noisily.

After being sure that he has left the room, she quietly says, "goodbye, Daryl." She begins to cry once more, trying to stifle her sobs, at the thought that she never had a relationship with anybody. No friendly little Carl. She can never be loose and acknowledge Daryl as she used to. She cannot cry with so much heart strain towards her sister. She can't stare at Dawn in the eye without realizing that she's her cousin and she can't hate her.

Goodbye, relationships.

She really wonders if she wants to go back to her imaginary world, where she has everyone, and she can sing to them no matter how hopeless or pointless the situation seems to be. She swallows another ball of tears, feeling her throat burn almost as furiously as the heated tears that stream down her face.

Then, she realizes something. She really did imagine everything. After all, if she searches far enough despite the horrible pulsing in her head whenever she does that; she can almost imagine Rick, starting from Rick, with a genuine leather cowboy hat meeting with Glenn. How could she have known that? She didn't even begin to imagine herself and Maggie into her own imagination until Rick and his previous group grouped up with them in the barn? And she can almost see Carl, being the direct cause of killing a reincarnated Shane with a bullet, after his own father stabbed the said man with a knife. She couldn't have seen that happen or known it had happen; she just thought Shane died from a walker of some sort. But unconsciously, she knew that Shane was stabbed.

She can also see it happen from the beginning; Rick, who is ironically in a similar situation as she is right now, placed in a coma after being shot accidentally. He woke up to a world overrun with walkers. _Overrun by walkers._ And yet, here she is now, knowing for sure, that walkers were just her own ripped-off version of regular zombies, that are apparent and normal to this world. For some reason, in her little dreamscape, the idea of zombies are completely nonexistent.

Of course it was a dream; if it wasn't, how could she have known that? How could she have known everything that happened even if she wasn't there at the time being? If it was a dream, no wonder she didn't become subconsciously aware that walkers are practically just zombies.

It was all just a bad dream.

And for some strange reason, that saddens her. Throughout the entire apocalypse when she was added into the equation with the group; she wanted nothing more but for everything to return to normal. And yet, here she is now, crying over the fact that none of it happened. She finally got what she wanted when she was in the apocalypse; she wanted everything to be a bad dream.

And look at her, crying over the results of something she would've been joyful over.

* * *

So basically Beth was in a car crash, and in a coma for two years.

She imagined the whole 'The Walking Dead' story up to the point where she died from Dawn and that's when she woke up.

So yeh.

Um. If you have any ideas, feel free to leave a review.

And if you're going to flame me, might as well say it now: I honestly don't give a single shit. :D

But thanks.

Yeh.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer I don't own The Walking Dead.

* * *

She couldn't stand it anymore. The rhythmic 'beeps' of the monitors, the lack of entertainment and the constant, irritating feeling of false happiness that surrounds her everytime a nurse enters with a calculating, cold, fake smile; it was driving her insane. Yes, she's aware somewhere in the back of her hazy mind that Zach is to visit her rather soon; but she couldn't wait anymore. Grabbing the multiple needs pierced shallowly into her flesh, she quickly find the area where it connects to the tubes. She had seen a doctor do this when she mentioned she had to use the bathroom, and they were able to somehow unplug the tubes from the needles taped down into her flesh, so that she may move to the bathroom without having to remove the needles themselves or take the actual bags full of fluids with her everywhere she goes.

Slowly, she unscrews the tubes from a certain plastic ring attached to the needle, and doing it with the other needle that pierces the crook of her other elbow, she's finally able to move around without restriction. Slowly, she slides off the bed, which groans loudly in retaliation, as she lands on her two feet, which shiver as they come in contact with the cold, tiled floors. The hospital dress that she was forced to wear [mainly because she didn't have any real articles of clothing] rustle noisily against her bare skin, as she shuffles towards the door. The doctors always moved her around in a wheelchair, trying to limit the amount of walking she actually has to perform. Apparently, her muscles, due to the lack of use may feel compressed at times, and it's hard for her to get around, that she has to confess. Using the walls as support, she grips the metal doorknob and slowly opens the door, yawning it open to prevent it from making so much noise. She pokes her head outside, blinking as multiple doctors and nurses disregard her as another patient while they pass by the hallway in front of her.

She easily finds her way around the hallway, only to get lost once more. By now, the nervousness stirring inside of her has settled; she honestly doesn't mind being lost. She's still on the same floor her room's supposed to be, and besides, she's rather bored of her own room. "Hey," she continues. "Girl with the blonde hair!" at first, she assumed whoever was talking wasn't implying towards her; after all, she's some nobody wandering around. She turns around, blinking, trying to locate the source of the noise.

"You dropped this," A sudden figure appears through the bustling crowd, and Beth has to say, her heart practically flips over at the sight of him, the boy with the frosty blue eyes that resemble his father's. The boy holds up a hair tie. Beth assumes that her braid was rather loose, that the elastic must've slipped off.

"Oh, thank you," she smiles sweetly, taking the elastic, all the meanwhile she continues to stare at the boy with fascination. Could it be-

"I'm Carl," the boy holds out a hand. He's even wearing the hat. She swallows her excitement, and shakes his hand.

"I'm Beth," what are the odds? First Daryl, now Carl. Perhaps, perhaps she can meet everyone once again. But how does she know this kid? She's pretty sure that in her actual, real life, she never met Carl before. So how did she perfectly envision him down to his freckles in her mind and place him in her own apocalyptic story? "What are you doing here?" Perhaps she's being too intruding; the same way that she asked Daryl about his purpose for being here.

"Oh, I'm here to see my dad's friend. He's a police officer. He and my dad were on a mission, but then this guy went rogue and shot my dad's friend, he's fine though."

"I'm glad to hear that!" Wasn't Shane, in her dream, a police officer? And judging that Carl and possibly Daryl both legitimately exist in this world, why wouldn't Shane? This is really, really freaking her out. She never met these people in her life. And yet, she imagined that she survived with them. "So, when's he getting out?"

"Today. He's right over there, actually," Carl points towards the door to the left of them, and as if on cue, the door opens, revealing two tall males, which constricts Beth's breathing as they look their way. "Hey Dad!" the boy waves, and a rather familiar man walks over, ruffling his head, sending his hat askew. "Look, this is Beth." the boy points. Beth forces herself to wave as the man turns to her. His beard's gone, completely shaven, revealing a youthful visage, and his hair is trimmed short. His sapphire eyes no longer squinted and threatening, but rather, wide and innocent.

"Why hello, Beth. I see you met Carl." he says. Beth nods, smiling.

"Hello..." she begins, unsure if she should say his name.

"Mr. Grimes. But you can just call me Rick." _So you exist too._ And as she looks to the side, she's able to see another rather familiar male, dressed in a suit. "That's my best friend, Shane," Shane's hair has grown back to its curly texture, no longer shaven since the last time Beth's seen him. They three of them. Right there. Clearly alive. And she knows all of them, their alter-egos and their normal personalities, and what'll happen to them if they're put to the test.

But instead, she forces a strained a smile onto her face, as she beams towards the three of them as though nothing's wrong.

* * *

"Can you believe the irony? You know that girl from a long time ago?" the male chuckles. "Beth? She ended up in a coma after the whole experiment. I was still keeping tabs on her just in case, and she ended up seeing the other patient members; Daryl, Carl, Shane and Rick. Of course she saw her other patient members, Dawn and Maggie, they're blood related." the male snorts.

The female just nods. "Imagine what'll happen if Beth remembers what happened-and she saw Dawn? She'd automatically attack her, I wonder if she knows that Dawn was the one to kill her." she questions, her bubble gum creating a 'snap' as it pops. She continues to chew, stretching out the elastic texture of the gum. "But that'll never happen."

It's true. At least, the lady's pretty sure of it; it'd be impossible for any of the patient members to regain their memories of performing in their 'zombie apocalypse' experience. They made sure of it, making sure that all these patient members lived as if nothing happened, drugged into false memories."


End file.
